<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Echoes by Demiii</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29887752">Echoes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demiii/pseuds/Demiii'>Demiii</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5, Persona Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>:(, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Let Sakamoto Ryuji Say Fuck, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Retelling, akira is an angry boy, i just want everyone to be happy but im writing this so no one will, i would put angst about 8 times if i could, ryuji will say fuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:00:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29887752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demiii/pseuds/Demiii</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of Persona 5 Royal from the perspectives of Joker and a new character, a new teacher at Shujin.</p><p>Ten years ago, a group of Persona users traversing the Metaverse and trying to save the world, failed. The opposition was too much, too powerful. It took all of their lives just to seal it away beneath the Earth. </p><p>All but one.</p><p>Now, that one will meet the next generation and watch as they pick up the pieces that he left shattered where they lay and guide them to pick them up and finish what he hadn't the strength to accomplish, echoes haunting him all the while.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amamiya Ren/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Kurusu Akira/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Persona 5 Protagonist/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Exiles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Some of you may remember something similar to this, I deleted it for a reason. That reason being that I kinda cringed at it whenever I read it to myself and I didn't really enjoy writing it anymore, mostly from the hole I felt I wrote myself into, but goddamn I still think the idea behind the story is brilliant so I wanted to give it a go again. </p><p>So here we are, featuring more angst, depression, and unapologetic usage of the word 'fuck'.</p><p>Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beep. Beep. Beep.</p><p> </p><p>A screeching beeping stirred him out of his peaceful sleep. His lovely reverie away from the actual shit that he has to deal with in his everyday life was interrupted by something he set up himself: an alarm for 5:30 am every weekday and Saturday. Turning off his side and sitting upright on his bead, he followed the incessant alarm from his phone until he found the actual thing, swiping it off.</p><p> </p><p>He rubbed his eyes, pinched his nose, and let out a hearty yawn while staring at the carpeted floor. He rubbed his unshaven face, adjusted his messy hair out of his eyes, and rose to his feet. He threw off his shirt while he groggily stumbled over to the bathroom in the hall, turned on the light, and stared at himself in the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>A beard that covered his whole face, straight, dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders, brown eyes that have been called ‘threatening’, once upon a time. He didn’t know if it was a popular opinion, nor did he care, which extended to his normal appearance. His beard existed because he didn’t care about it too much, he’s been given shit that he looked ‘unprofessional’ or ‘unkempt’; he thought it made him look scruffy. The same thing with his hair, couldn’t be bothered to keep it short, so he just kept it long; tied it up if he ever had to look presentable.</p><p> </p><p>He rubbed his face again, getting the crap out of his eyes, and yawned again. The self-evaluation could wait until after a shower.</p><p><br/>
One quick shower later, he stumbled once more towards the kitchen to make coffee while he got dressed. He opened his closet and stared into it.</p><p> </p><p>Much like his hair, his clothes never had much flair either. Casual clothes included sweatpants, track pants, plain shirts, hoodies, and some jackets. Business clothes were the only proper ones he had, but as he found out his new workplace didn’t require ties as part of the dress code, he was tempted to throw all of his into a trash compactor followed by a Molotov.</p><p> </p><p>He reached for brown dress pants, a white shirt, and a brown sports jacket. Bordering on business casual, but, who cares. He lazily threw those on, then again stumbled to the kitchen to down some coffee down his gullet. The burn is something that he is already use to, and is the only way that he can wake up in the morning. Caffeine stopped working a long time ago.</p><p> </p><p>Pouring coffee into a mug and throwing it back like a shotgun, he winced as the burn kicked and turned his attention elsewhere.</p><p> </p><p>His new workplace. Shujin Academy.</p><p> </p><p>After grueling seven-and-a-half years of college, a major in education, and a minor in history, the first real job he’ll ever have started today. As a teacher.</p><p> </p><p>If you asked him when he was still in high school, then this is not the career path he had originally chosen for himself. It was one for music, actually, but one thing lead to another, and…</p><p> </p><p>Well, despite everything he’s gone through, he’s content with the way things turned out.</p><p> </p><p>Because of the jobs he and his high school friends did, he ended up with a sizable chunk of change that would allow him to live comfortably for the rest of his life. He may not even need to work.</p><p> </p><p>But: ‘life without a goal is a life not worth living’. Words said to him long ago, and ones, from his experience, that are certainly true.</p><p> </p><p>So instead of wasting away, he got into college and paid out of his pocket. And after many, many courses; he finally got that sheet of paper that says he's qualified in his field. He did switch his major up about a hundred thousand times but, he felt that then and he felt it now, that this was the right decision.</p><p> </p><p>If he could do for one student what some teacher did for him, all of that tuition money would be worth it.</p><p> </p><p>Sorting out lesson plans, curriculum syllabus, and more formal crap into folders and into a backpack, he slung it over his shoulders and put on a pair of dress shoes, and left his house to start his first day.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The drive over to Shujin wasn’t very long, having a house in Yongen-Jaya means that there are a lot of roads leading out of the place. It’s one of the most densely populated residential areas in Tokyo, it would make sense to have a billion roads out, so to speak. Parking around the backside of the building and leaving his car in one of the very few parking spots available, he circled the building to the front entrance, because, in the architect’s infinite wisdom, he didn’t provide a backdoor available to those who park.</p><p> </p><p>Most people use the subway anyway, it made sense, but damn if it didn’t piss him off.</p><p> </p><p>He walked up the steps and entered the building. To his surprise, the principal himself was waiting for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Date! Good morning to you!” Kobayakawa, the pot-bellied principal jovially greeted him in a volume that made him want to turn around and nose-dive back into bed. He flicked some hair around in an attempt to hide his disdain.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning, principal. You roll out the warm welcome just for me?” He tried his best to not sound completely irritated, adding a smile for good measure.</p><p> </p><p>“But of course! I want all my new staff to feel as integrated and as welcome as possible. I am here to guide you to your workspace and answer any questions you may have.” Kobayakawa looked like he was going to spout some more nonsense, but someone moving in the hallway caught his attention. He leaned so far back, his center of gravity almost shifted.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Kamoshida! A moment please!” He yelled to the hallway. A half-concealed figure, hidden by the edge of the wall, turned around and walked back towards the entrance.</p><p> </p><p>This ‘Mr. Kamoshida’ was some specimen of a man. Date wasn’t a short man, he was decently tall, not quite six feet, but close to it. This guy, on the other hand, was almost a full head taller than him. He took care of his body, clearly. His almost rectangular head was topped with a literal mop of hair. He spoke after he reached the two.</p><p> </p><p>“Is this the new hire you told me about, principal Kobayakawa?” He asked while fixing the collar of a plain white t-shirt. Quite the lax attire for a school, but maybe he was a gym coach.</p><p> </p><p>He reached out his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Ryuu Date. Nice to meet you.”</p><p> </p><p>The larger man smiled and returned his handshake.</p><p> </p><p>His grip was firm. Maybe too firm.</p><p> </p><p>“Suguru Kamoshida. Pleasure’s all mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Kamoshida is the pride of our academy, he’s a-” Kobayakawa tried to say, but Ryuu knew exactly who he was talking to.</p><p> </p><p>“Former Olympian. Sorry to cut you off, but I watched you in the Olympics. Not a big volleyball person myself, but you were impressive.”</p><p> </p><p>Kamoshida’s eyes lit up like pair of headlights. Hungry headlights. He smiled and chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh please, I appreciate the kind words, but you flatter me too much.”</p><p> </p><p>What Ryuu heard about, and what he wouldn’t dare say to the man’s face, is that he knew about a sexual harassment situation that almost turned into a scandal. Somewhere around the lines of him groping an interviewer, it got covered up by some manager he head, no doubt. The only regret in Ryuu’s head is that he wouldn’t be able to see the look on his face if he dropped that little bomb. Unfortunately, he both had to work with the guy, and he doubted he could win in a fight, so.</p><p> </p><p>Good side, we go.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got to get to my office to work on some lineups for my team, but we can talk later?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p> </p><p>“Have a good first day, Date-san.”</p><p> </p><p>And with that, Kamoshida left, and so did the breath that Kobayakawa was holding in that entire time.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, shall we see to your workspace?”</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu nodded and Kobayakawa led the way.</p><p> </p><p>Small talk between the two was all that filled the hallways and staircase up to the second floor to where the faculty room was. Following the principal inside, the room felt the same as the rest of the school: white on white, a few plants lining the walls to make it a little more lived in, and desks galore. Kobayakawa led him further in, past a few other teachers, to a desk on the far side of the room. It was the furthest desk from the door, and no one was behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“This is your desk, Mr. Date. If you require anything further, please do not hesitate to ask me or the vice principal. The schedules, rosters, and others are in the folder.” Kobayakawa attempted to bow, but his circumference threatened the integrity of the building, so he settled with leaning his head forward. “It’s a pleasure to have you here, Mr. Date, and we wish you the best year possible.”</p><p> </p><p>Without another word, the principal turned and left the faculty room.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu let out a breath through pursed lips. He had the impression that Kobayakawa was someone that liked to hear himself and only himself talk, but not sticking for goodbyes could be considered rude to people older than himself. He took off his backpack and laid it on the desk and settled with starting his first day, and took a seat.</p><p> </p><p>He opened the sizable black and red folder on his desk and started peering through it. He had had four different classes a day, two on Saturdays; one class of first years, two classes of second years, and one class of third years. No one’s name stood out to him, so he cared not much for them at the moment. After those two sets of papers were a couple thousand rules and regulation papers: code of ethics, proper conduct, things of that legal nature. He would have to wait until he hits the public trash before he could get rid of this glorified paper-paperweight.</p><p> </p><p>Just as he was about to do that, a frustrated sigh got his attention from next to him.</p><p> </p><p>He never noticed the teacher sitting directly next to him. A woman, with messy hair and dressed comfortably in a yellow long-sleeve and a denim skirt. She looked younger than a lot of the teachers in the building he’s seen so far, maybe two or three years older than himself. Their eyes met as they looked at each other out of the corner of each other’s eyes.</p><p> </p><p>She looked tired, she had the same look as his own.</p><p> </p><p>He looked away and with the mental reasoning of ‘fuck it’, threw the formality papers in the trash can under his desk. He opened his bag to take out his curriculum papers to match with the schedules he’d been given.</p><p> </p><p>“Even old teachers don’t throw those papers away.” The woman next to him stated. He glanced at her. Her head was tilted to look directly at him rather than through the corner of her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“They waste a lot of paper telling us to not use corporal punishment or sexually harass teenagers.” He said while continuing his motions. “Thought that went without saying these days.”</p><p> </p><p>The woman snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Some people need to be reminded.” She turned her head a smidge back towards her own desk, pivoting on the fist that rested on her cheek. She scribbled something on the paper in front of her. “I’m Sadayo Kawakami. I teach Japanese.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ryuu Date. History.” He said without looking away from his papers, now all stacked on his desk.</p><p> </p><p>“You look young, this your first school year?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Mmhm.” He grunted. “Graduated this year.”</p><p> </p><p>Kawakami paused.</p><p> </p><p>“How old are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu had to stifle a laugh. Some would be a lot more pissed than he was entertained by the brusque question. He smiled, despite it.</p><p> </p><p>“25.”</p><p> </p><p>She paused again. He looked over to see her staring at him. Her fist was lying flat on the desk.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn. I feel old.” She said, more to herself than anything.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu raised an eyebrow. Kawakami looked younger than him, and that wasn’t him being generous at all. The beard and hair tended to make people guess that he was in his thirties, and not his mid-twenties.</p><p> </p><p>“Would it be rude if I took a guess?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>She blew air out of her nose.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“If I don’t like it I’ll slap you.”</p><p> </p><p>“25. Ish.”</p><p> </p><p>Kawakami glared at him, but then smiled and shook her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Ignoring the ‘ish’ comment, yes, I’m 25.” Ryuu opened his mouth to speak. “I took classes in high school, I graduated college a few years early.”</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu closed his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Then he opened it again.</p><p> </p><p>“You look a lot younger than 25.”</p><p> </p><p>She squinted at him, then laughed and shook her head.</p><p> </p><p>“My, trying to flirt with the coworkers on your first day?”</p><p> </p><p>He turned and stared at her with the blankest look he could possibly manage. He had to laugh too, though.</p><p> </p><p>“Ms. Kawakami. The transfer is here.” Kobayakawa’s egg-self said through the now open door of the faculty room.</p><p> </p><p>Kawakami, who looked like she was having some semblance of fun a minute before, became extremely uncomfortable. Her whole person looked… smaller. Like she was an afraid animal. She rose from her seat and made her way over to the door, stopping right in front of Kabayakawa as he spoke again.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, wait in front of my office. He’s waiting inside, I must speak with Mr. Date first.”</p><p> </p><p>She left the faculty room without another word nor glance.</p><p> </p><p>Kobayakawa waddled on over to Ryuu, stopping in front of his desk.</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Date, it wasn’t labeled on the roster, so you’ll have to forgive me for telling this to you so late. One of our transfers possess a criminal record and will be placed in one of your classes.” He said sternly like this wasn’t up for argument.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu didn’t really feel like this was worth an argument, it was just some teenagers, what’s the worst he could do?<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What’s on the record?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>“He has an assault charge.”</p><p> </p><p>Huh. Would you look at that.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh, indeed. Ms. Kawakami is his homeroom teacher, so he will have a private introduction with her and myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“His name is Akira Kurusu. Do be on the lookout for any unacceptable behavior.”</p><p> </p><p>Kobayakawa turned and left, once more, with as much pomp and circumstance as his round body allowed.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu stared at the closed door that the principal closed behind him, before scratching his neck and craning it back towards his desk.</p><p> </p><p>This might be a longer year than he anticipated.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Kawakami came back looking much more dejected than Ryuu thought possible from such a simple meet-and-greet. They had a little back-and-forth since she came back, but it wasn’t quite as energetic as the conversation that they had when he first arrived.</p><p> </p><p>At around noon, Ryuu had finished his paperwork, lesson plans, and everything else so that on the student’s first day tomorrow, everything would be just peachy. He neatly- well, neatly for him- packed everything away into folders and into his backpack, getting up, and slinging it over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>He bid a good day to Kawakami, who mumbled something in farewell, and strolled to the sliding door to the office and walked out.</p><p> </p><p>Or he would’ve if something didn’t bump into him on the way out.</p><p> </p><p>A student, from the uniform. Short-ish brown hair, braid across the middle, and red eyes that would make anyone without a backbone go running. Must be important if she’s here the day before school starts.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu rubbed the part of his chest where she power-walked into. The girl certainly had a strut, though it was more like a trucking runningback than some kind of walk.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, my apologies, I wasn’t paying attention.” The girl spoke with more authority than half of the teachers he’s known. Like she’s used to it, came from it. Ryuu shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it. ‘Scuse me.” He looked away from her and back to the space in front of him.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Wait.” The student said, putting her hands behind her back and swaying slightly to the left. She wasn’t moving, and wasn’t going to. “Are you the new teacher? Date-sensei?”</p><p> </p><p>He nodded. “I am.”</p><p> </p><p>“My name is Makoto Nijima, third-year and student council president. I’d like a word, if I may.”</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu stared at her and then pulled out his phone and looked at the time: a little past noon. He didn’t have anywhere to be, but he wanted an excuse to get out of this building full of adults on power trips waiting to happen. He blew air out his mouth to not look rude by sighing aggressively in front of this aggressive teenager.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, walk and talk.”</p><p> </p><p>Nijima nodded and turned around, walking into the hallway. The air around her suggested that she wanted him to follow her, but he walked past her so that they walked side-by-side instead.</p><p> </p><p>“What can I do you for, Nijima? San?” He quickly added the honorific for the simple reason of him not using them very often, choosing to just call people by their surname. Some may consider it unprofessional when they are barely acquaintances, so he’d rather bite the bullet and stick with formality.</p><p> </p><p>She definitely noticed the minute pause, though. Girl’s got some kind of attention span.</p><p> </p><p>“As student council president, I have to keep a closer relationship with all the teachers, and since you are the only new one this year, I’d like to get to know you better.” She said.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu could’ve sworn he’s seen this setup before, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want to know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Subjects, lesson plans, expectations. Things of that nature.”</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu clicked his tongue, a little thankful this wasn’t going the direction his weird, messed up, adult brain was going to. He should quit watching romcoms for a bit, he thought to himself. He scratched his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Is this your first year teaching?” She asked. He nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“It is. I graduated not too long ago.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where did you go to college?”</p><p> </p><p>“Peking, I studied overseas.”</p><p> </p><p>Nijima looked at Ryuu, utterly flabbergasted; Like he just flipped her whole world on its head and dunked it into a pool while throwing it over a fence and through someone's window. Ryuu didn’t have to think very hard to guess. Peking is actually a well-renowned university both in China, but the rest of the world. Most surprising to her is that a man looking like he does going to a very selective college is the main culprit of her funny reaction.</p><p> </p><p>Since he’s come back to Japan in the past few months, this reaction is constant and made all that tuition money worth it and more.</p><p> </p><p>She flipped her hair, and adjusted her braid (???), and serenely closed her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’m glad that we have someone with proper credentials teaching at our school.”</p><p> </p><p>He recognized about half of what she said, the biggest thought in his mind is that the braid in her hair wasn’t her hair? It’s a headband? What?</p><p> </p><p> Slicking his hair back in an attempt to recover and feeling his hair go back to the same exact place it was in, he tried to steer the conversation away from the headband-related questions that fogged his brain.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, well, I’m sure I’ll learn a lot this year, too.” As those words left his mouth, he found himself face to face with the front entrance of the school. “This is my stop, Nijima-san. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He offered her a nod of farewells, of which she returned, and he left the school building.</p><p> </p><p>As the glass doors of Shujin shut behind him with a deafening crash, Ryuu stifled the urge to press his back to the thing and start hyperventilating. Instead, he gazed at the sky, then closed his eyes and let out a weary breath of air. College was exhausting. China was exhausting. High school was exhausting. His… excursions were exhausting. This, though?<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>This felt like trumping everything.</p><p> </p><p>Condescending, probably power-hungry principal? Check.</p><p> </p><p>Sociopathic, possibly still predatory teacher? Check.</p><p> </p><p>Overworked other teacher? Check.</p><p> </p><p>Student council president who holds a little more power than she probably should? Check.</p><p> </p><p>Student with a criminal record? Check.</p><p> </p><p>Well, he should give the last one the benefit of the doubt, he hasn’t even met them yet.</p><p> </p><p>“Ryuu, that you?”</p><p> </p><p>Opening his eyes, Ryuu turned his head to sweet, velvety, and most of all, recognizable tones of the proprietor of his favorite coffee place. The retro white blazer/pink shirt combo, trilby from the 80s, goatee he made a little too pointy came none other than the man approaching him at this very moment.</p><p> </p><p>Sojiro Sakura himself.</p><p> </p><p>“Sojiro, how’s it going?” Ryuu held his hand out for a shake to the old -read, middle-aged- man. Sojiro returned it in kind.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, it goes.” He noncommittally answered.</p><p> </p><p>Sojiro was… involved with Ryuu and his merry gang back when they were in high school. With Sojiro’s help, they accomplished many things they probably shouldn’t have. Back then, Sojro was no cafe owner like he is now; he was a government official rather than the owner of a back alley cafe in Yongen. Of course, Sojiro also had a head of hair.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu wouldn’t bring that up, though.</p><p> </p><p>What Ryuu might possibly bring up is the person that is uncomfortably shifting behind Sojiro. A teenager, in the Shujin uniform. Taller than the average guy, lanky, fuzzy hair, and thick-rimmed glasses. The kind that made you look smart, but also blend in. The ones that make you think ‘oh, that’s just the smart guy’, and then move on to the next one with the out-standing accessory. Those glasses were deliberate, a calculated play. How could Ryuu possibly think this?</p><p> </p><p>Well, he did the same thing, once.</p><p> </p><p>Then, their eyes met.</p><p> </p><p>Beyond the lenses of those rims were daggers. Sharp, intelligent, gazing, ever-searching black lasers that peered into the very minds of those in his field of vision.</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s the kid?” Ryuu asked Sojiro, never moving his eyes from the boy.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s the kid I’m taking care of. Introduce yourself.” Sojiro said. The boy fixed his glasses and stretched his back.</p><p> </p><p>“Akira Kurusu. Pleasure.”</p><p> </p><p>Huh.</p><p> </p><p>Not what he was expecting, to be honest. Ryuu was expecting something a little more hostile. Maybe a beard like his, a few stencil tattoos of dragons, or some other wannabe Yakuza bullshit. Ryuu was sure of one thing, after looking at this kid in the eye for a while, looking him up and down.</p><p> </p><p>Kurusu Akira had never thrown a punch in his entire goddamn life.</p><p> </p><p>No, that wasn’t this kid’s style. His build is too lean for someone who swings, even a lankier boxer still has a certain sway, a way that they carry themselves, and this kid, with a slight hunch in his posture? No, no way.</p><p> </p><p>Takes one to know one, after all.</p><p> </p><p>This kid wasn’t the kind to fight with his fists. He wanted to win the fight before it ever started. Watch you, know you; learn your favorite foods and songs before he strikes when you least expect it. A stalking predator hiding in the bushes, not a rampaging beast.</p><p> </p><p>Took Ryuu that whole train of thought before he realized he was staring at the kid, who was shuffling like he was starting to get uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>“Same.” He said to Kurusu with a smile. “Nice seeing you, Sojiro. I’ve gotta get back home.”</p><p> </p><p>Sojiro nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Come to the shop when you got some free time, we haven’t talked much since you came back home.” He said with a smile.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu offered him a nod and walked past him to start the long and arduous task of circling around the damn building.</p><p> </p><p>A few steps in, he realized that he didn’t say why he was in Shujin to begin with, and Sojiro never asked, either. He never told him that he would be a teacher at this school, just that he would be a teacher. Oh well, he would tell Sojiro when he saw him again, and he would. His coffee is way too good to pass up.</p><p> </p><p>Traversing the sidewalk around the building and making it all the way to the parking lot, Ryuu spotted his car: a white Porsche 986 that he got off-hand by someone with way too much money and not enough garage space. It cost him over a million yen, but the car is damn beautiful and he would pay much, much more for it. Ryuu put his hand on the handle to open the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Kamoshida is staying docile.”</p><p> </p><p>That was… Kobayakawa’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>“…yes, it’s troublesome, he runs around the academy thinking that he’s some king of a castle.”</p><p> </p><p>He felt his phone vibrate.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, he’s just a pervert, sir, I-.”</p><p> </p><p>From all corners of his vision, Ryuu saw reds, blacks, whites; ripples in his very vision, like from skipping stones on the ocean surface. They clouded his vision and made his head hurt. He clutched his eyes, squeezing his face as hard as he possibly could. The pain in his brain matched the pain of his eyes, and that pain soon spread throughout his whole body, making him lean against his car.</p><p> </p><p>But, he couldn’t feel his car. He fell to the ground, using both hands to stop his fall on the hard asphalt. He stayed like that, panting and drooling through the pain as he recovered as best he could.</p><p> </p><p>He opened his long-clenched eyes and raised his head to look in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>The sky above turned a deep, royal purple. The air felt like it had color, a thin and red miasma that floated harmlessly in the air. Raising his eyes further, he was no longer in the employee parking lot for Shujin Academy, but somewhere else entirely. He was in a courtyard, surrounded by stone walls, tile roofs, miscellaneous boxes. He rose to his feet, clutching his head once more as the pain flooded his senses once again.</p><p> </p><p>But along with that, an all-powerful wave of nostalgia.</p><p> </p><p>“Who goes there?!” A malformed voice called out, followed by a crashing wave of metal footsteps, clanking going ever closer.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu felt his very mind tug at him that he needed to go, to move, to be anywhere than where he was right this very second; but the grounded feeling in his legs overpowered his sense of reason, telling the rest of his body that there was nowhere that he needed to be than right here.</p><p> </p><p>The clanking stopped and he looked to see… knights. Hulking specimens with plate armor and tower shields that were as tall as they were, at least ten feet tall. They held longswords in the other hand and wore helmets from medieval times with piercing jade eye-holes that moved around like irises.</p><p> </p><p>“You dare trespass on the land of his majesty, King Kamoshida?!” One of the knights declared in a dual-toned voice with static filtering through, like feedback from a speaker.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu didn’t care about that, he cared about something else.</p><p> </p><p>That feeling of nostalgia from earlier was something that was rooted in his gut and spread like warmth through the rest of him. The pain that clouded him vanished under the warm feeling, it encapsulated his whole body.</p><p> </p><p>And the world turned dark, except for the blue.</p><p> </p><p>A blue butterfly, flapping its wings around him, the knight’s movements completely halted under the weight of the darkness.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>This is truly an unjust game.</em>” A voice said: a girl, young.</p><p> </p><p>One that he knew, a decade ago.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Your chances of winning are almost none.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>The warmth felt… brighter.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>But if my voice is reaching you, there may be hope yet.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>The warmth started to fade from the tips of his body, compressing itself in his core.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>You’ve lost, once upon a time. The lives of others were used to make certain you lived.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>The warmth became pain.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>For the sake of your world and those who yet live.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>Unspeakable pain.</p><p> </p><p><em>“You must rise above.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>The pain rose to his head. He clutched it, his body thrashing against the feeling of his brain like it was melting from the rays of the very sun itself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Aye, we meet once more.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>That voice, bursting with rage and power, was echoing in his mind. Powerful enough to dim the pain when it spoke.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>This is what you’ve yearned for, isn’t it?</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>The screams of battle. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>The feeling of steel through flesh.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>The thrill of anger.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>I will bestow it upon you, once more.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>I am thou. </strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Thou art I.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>It is good to be with you, a decade past our last day together.</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Now…</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu felt it on his face again.</p><p> </p><p>The mask… No… The blood. It wrapped around his face, conformed to his features like some symbiotic parasite. Ryuu desperately, manically clawed at his face like a cornered animal, trying to get the tar-like liquid off of his face, keep some semblance of control. The blood fell from his face like splotches from a paintbrush, decorating the cobblestone floor around him in a foreboding, hellish red circle. When the last of the blood fell from his eyes and face, Ryuu panted at the ground, staring at the heavy blood around him. He swallowed the spit and lump that was in his dry mouth.</p><p> </p><p>He’s been in this situation before, twice even, he’s done before. The voices, the warmth, the pain, the blood. All that’s left, is to call his name.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“Cuchulain.”</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Blue fire erupted from his person, evaporating the blood around and knocking back the knights surrounding as time resumed. The power grew within him, filled his body with a vigor that it hadn’t had since high school. More than that, it filled with other long gone feelings: strength, anger.</p><p> </p><p>Rage.</p><p> </p><p>In his hand, coalesced a familiar weapon: a spear. Simple steelhead, with six smaller heads made from bones descending the side of the shaft, with barbed heads on each of them, a simple wooden staff tying the weapon together. It was bestowed upon him by the very voice in his head, dubbed as its chosen weapon: Gae Bolg.</p><p> </p><p>It was held in his gauntlet hand. Simple steel gauntlets, simple steel boots, both compounded with leather straps securing it in place. He wore loose-fitting cloth pants, with a dark red robe. A small collar of fur adorned the collar of it, and a leather belt of the same collar of his pants ran diagonally across his chest, adorned with small gold emblems of people and places and monsters that haven’t been worshiped in centuries. He raised his spear and looked at himself in the reflection of the spearhead.</p><p> </p><p>His hair was cut shorter as an undercut with a small braid going down the left side of his head, down his chin. His beard was completely shaved, the only thing on his face was the blue tattoos, emblazoned as a tribal style war paint.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu adjusted the spear, spinning it in a circle, testing the weight. He, himself might have grown stronger as he got older, but this spear feels the same in his hand like it was so many years ago.</p><p> </p><p>A flash of blue fire came from next to him, as his benefactor floated above the ground next to him. A massive burly, muscular hulk of a person, flowing blond hair, heavier, thicker tattoos than his own. He wore armor similar to Ryuu’s, if more ornate: gold embroidery on the leather parts, gold and silver pieces on the metal, his chest covered by a scale-mail robe that ran down to his knees;  his hair partly covered by a headband adorned with jewels. In his hand was a larger, more ornate version of Gae Bolg. At his side, was an arming sword, much more ornate than the normal kind, Ryuu had never seen him use it, so it was there for decoration, most likely.</p><p> </p><p>He floated a few feet away from Ryuu, arms crossed, spear now floating harmlessly in the air. He leaned his head toward Ryuu, cocky smile on his face.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>It feels good, doesn’t it? To be back with me? To be able to do all this again?</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu let out a deep breath he had been holding since he got the blood off of his face. He closed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The power? The strength? The freedom?</p><p> </p><p>He could never lie, he would’ve done anything to have this feeling back.</p><p> </p><p>He opened his eyes and grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn right.”</p><p> </p><p>The other him laughed, a roaring, booming, terrifying thing.</p><p> </p><p><strong>Of course, now, we have ten years' worth of anger to exhaust. And would you look at this? </strong>He brandished his hand in a flourish, towards the cowering knights in various states of standing, crawling, or outright retreat. <strong>Look at all this fodder for us to play with.</strong> He put a hand on Ryuu’s shoulder, getting in close. <strong>Shall we?</strong></p><p> </p><p>He burned in a blue flame and vanished from Ryuu’s sight.</p><p> </p><p>It was Ryuu’s turn to laugh, roaring, booming, terrifying. He spun his spear and lowered his knees, ready to pounce on these unlucky beings whose only crime was being around him at this very moment. The tattoos on his face shone in a brilliant, dazzling sapphire. It would’ve been called beautiful by those capable, but the only bystanders were the ones too scared to run.</p><p> </p><p>With a twisted, demented smile ten years in the making, Ryuu Date uttered one, simple word; one simple command, one that hadn’t been spoken aloud in as many years:</p><p> </p><p>“Persona.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Tokyo had been a blur, so far.</p><p> </p><p>Akira was yoinked out of his hometown like a weed in a driveway and shoved into juvy while the courts gave him his sentence. Any friends he had blocked him on whatever ways they could possibly be contacted on. His family, who had long ago said that they would support him no matter what went on in his life, whatever path he chose, all but disowned him, if not for the fact that they had to for another two or so years. General society had dumped him with the rest of the lowlives: murderers, rapists, killers. All he wanted was to get through high school and have something resembling a happy life before he entered college or trade school or whatever he decided that he wanted to do after. Instead, he was thrown into a box, a court ruling reeking of setup, and now he was thrust into a city that intimidated him far beyond anything that had happened so far.</p><p> </p><p>All of this for simply trying to do the right thing. All it got him was arrested and ostracized.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes, the anger he felt got to him. It felt like he could burst at any moment in time. He had never thrown a punch in his entire life but with the way his life turned out? He really wanted to change that.</p><p> </p><p>Just a week ago, he was sitting across a probation officer, his eyes trained to the table in front of him as he was told what was going to happen: year-long probation in Tokyo, living with someone named ‘Sojiro Sakura’, attending a slightly prestigious private school that ‘oh so gracious’ to let someone like ‘<em>him’ </em>attend their academy.</p><p> </p><p>A few days later, he was shoved on a train with nothing but some old clothes, his phone, and a bag with some stuff from home. Making his way through the subway system was confusing, as if his head didn’t hurt enough. He could’ve sworn he was seeing things when he first got to Shibuya square: flicking lights, people he’d never seen before, fire.</p><p> </p><p>His introduction with Sakura was largely forgettable. Sakura just spouted off about what was expected of him, how much of a burden he was to him, yet here he was; sheltering a juvenile delinquent. What a fucking hypocrite.</p><p> </p><p>Akira’s eyes were anywhere but meeting Sakura’s. Keeping his head down, figuratively and literally, was the best option that he had for the first month or so. Maybe, Sakura wouldn’t think that he was just hick trash with a violent side eventually. Or maybe, this would be how the whole year would be: quiet and lonely.</p><p> </p><p>The next day was more of the same. Introducing himself to the principal and his homeroom teacher, which translated into ‘principal fat fuck prattles on for 45 minutes about how lucky he is and how generous the school is, and his homeroom teacher looking at him like some pathetic leech’.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn, they’re really treating you like some kind of nuisance.” Sakura said after they left the building.</p><p> </p><p>To which Akira shrugged, “I’m used to it, at this point.” He said bitterly under his breath. He wasn’t expecting Sakura to hear him, but his newfound guardian did hear him.</p><p> </p><p>Akira was expecting Sakura to be mad at him, but he wasn’t at all. For the first time in about a month, Akira was looked at with a sad look, like maybe he wasn’t completely deserving of all the crap that had been thrown his way.</p><p> </p><p>Sakura never said anything further on that topic, instead, introducing Akira to a friend of his and then driving him home.</p><p> </p><p>‘Home’ being the dusty attic of a back-alley cafe in Yongen-Jaya. Sakura was doing, admittedly, the smart thing. Not letting Akira into his own private domicile was something that Akira could put past him.</p><p> </p><p>Although Akira was most certainly the type to hold grudges, he was not so petty to hold something like that against Sakura. He was providing him some form of shelter, at least, Akira could afford to let some things go.</p><p> </p><p>After a particularly vivid dream involving an incredibly ugly nose straight out of a Tolkien novel and his twin daughters or something else that he didn’t really pay attention to, he awoke suddenly to the sound of Sakura’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like you’re up.” He said gruffly. “Come downstairs when you’re ready, got some food for you before you go.” Akira heard him say through his still closed eyes and listened to his footsteps descend the stairs back to the cafe.</p><p> </p><p>Akira sat up in his bed, the milk crates that the mattress was being held on creak under the weight and creakier floorboards below. He tousled his hair a bit, getting the bangs out of his eyes. The best part about having his hair is that he never needed to style it, having bedhead as your normal hair meant bedhead wasn’t a bad thing. He rose from his bed, cracked his back, and put on his uniform. He looked at himself in a formerly buried mirror he leaned against the wall, one that he found while cleaning the attic to make it hospitable.</p><p> </p><p>The black and red pants were… disgusting. From his understanding, schools in the city had uniforms like this to be able to spot a student in a crowd, but damn if the plaid didn’t suit his lankiness. A white turtleneck and black blazer finished the ensemble, a second-year pin on his lapel that final touch. From the handbook he had skimmed over, just in case there were any rules at Shujin about when he was allowed to punch a teacher or something, the dress code was pretty lax. As much as Akira liked to dress up, his goal was to blend in, not stand out.</p><p> </p><p>To that end, he bought a pair of glasses with non-corrective lenses before he left his hometown. He read online that glasses would make him look less threatening, if he did at all. He didn’t know if it was working.</p><p> </p><p>Grabbing his messenger bag and slinging it over his shoulder, he went down the stairs. Sakura held the newspaper with both hands as he leaned against the counter, the only sounds of the cafe were the TV on the wall opposite of him playing some generic newstation jabber. Sakura’s eyes lifted to Akira, who motioned to the plate of curry and rice on the counter next to him with a tilt of his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning. Eat.” Was all he said. Akira just nodded and did what he said. Curry and rice was an odd combination at almost six in the morning, but whatever, Akira was the type to eat cold pizza at four in the morning, this wasn’t that far off.</p><p> </p><p>Akira didn’t know exactly what adjectives to describe food with but damn if that curry wasn’t the best thing he’s eaten since that bald fuck called him a ‘brat’ in an alleyway. Akira blinked after his first mouthful and froze, then dove in like the idea of manners was simply a suggestion.</p><p> </p><p>Sakura looked over from his newspaper as the teenager, now unhinged by something like common decency, was shoving his face full of his signature recipe like a bat out of hell. A hungry bat. He shook his head and went back to reading the paper, a smile on his face hidden by the pages.</p><p> </p><p>After a quick ‘thank you’ for the food, Akira skedaddled in an attempt to not be egregiously late on his first day of school. Being late would probably just bury him in the dirt as far as social standing goes, but as far as he knew, only the principal and the teachers that would be in charge of his classes would be informed of his record. Other than that, he was simply a transfer; that was one of the few tidbits that he wasn’t mentally asleep for during the principal’s one-man show.</p><p> </p><p>The subway system was still incredibly intimidating, but Sakura gave him the names of the lines that he had to transfer to. Even with that, Akira was certain that he was going to be at least an hour late while he figured out what the hell was going on.</p><p> </p><p>Yet, he found the switches not as hard as he thought they would be. Everything had incredibly big and bright signs, so much that he might be on time for the first day of his new school.</p><p> </p><p>After getting on the first train in Yongen, he was maybe one of three or four people in the red and black of Shujin. Now? After the second switch? Nearly the whole damn car was completely filled with them. Which made sense, from his research, Aoyama-Itchome was mainly Shujin and stores with a certain… clientele.</p><p> </p><p>Akira rode the last train until he made it to Aoyama station where he would be a ten or so minute walk to school. He leaned against the car’s walls right next to the door. All the seats were taken, the car was overpacked, and as he leaned there with his arms closed, he wanted nothing more than to be able to jump off the train.</p><p> </p><p>“Here, ma’am. You can have my seat.” A girl’s voice took him out of his self-pitying reverie. Akira didn’t go by ‘ma’am’ very often, but it was the first bit of actual conversation near him since he boarded. Moving his head, he peered over at the conversation.</p><p> </p><p>The girl’s voice belonged to a girl in a Shujin uniform, long bright red hair down her back, thick-rimmed glasses, and the basic uniform, minus the black leggings. Her ‘ma’am’ was referring to the elderly woman standing next to her.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, thank you, dearie. That’s very kind-.” The old woman tried to say, but as if straight out of a shounen manga, some shitter of an office worker swooped in with powers given by God to steal the seat.</p><p> </p><p>“Um, excuse me, that seat was for this woman, here.” The student said. The man in question was feigning slumber. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” She turned to say to the elderly woman, who waved her off with a hand wave and a polite smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Not your fault, dear.”</p><p> </p><p>Akira shook his head and leaned over to the guy, whose face was right behind his leaning body. He crouched down next to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Yo.” He flicked the guy’s forehead. He startled ‘awake’ with a violent shake. “Get up, that seat’s for the lady here.” He flourished to the old woman.</p><p> </p><p>“This seat wasn’t occupied, I can-.” Any complaint he had was silenced by another flick to the forehead.</p><p> </p><p>And again.</p><p> </p><p>And again.</p><p> </p><p>After the fourth time, the guy got the message and stood up and traversed the sea of people in search of another seat to steal.</p><p> </p><p>Akira rose to his full height and nodded at the old woman. “All yours, miss.”</p><p> </p><p>She said something about ‘young people these days being so kind’ or what have you, but Akira had already tuned her out. That was his good deed for the day, nothing more.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t spare the woman, nor his classmate another glance for the rest of the train ride.</p><p> </p><p>When the bell that they had arrived in Aoyama rang, Akira was the first one out as he was the closest to the door. As in, less than a centimeter.</p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me.” Akira heard the girl from earlier’s voice from behind him. Her voice was much smaller than it was when she was speaking to the elderly. Akira turned around and saw her face for the first time.</p><p> </p><p>She was certainly… attractive. Red eyes as bright as her hair that pierced through her glasses. She was cute. He didn’t think much farther than that as she bowed slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“I wanted to thank you for your help.” Her voice was small, sad, tired; the weight of the world bearing down on it, seemingly. Her eyes lowered from meeting his to the lapel on his blazer. “I didn’t want to be rude to my senpai. I’ll see you at school.”</p><p>She walked past him and back into the crowd.</p><p> </p><p>Akira just stood there, dumbfounded. First time he’s been thanked in a month, hell, first time he hasn’t been treated worse than the gum on someone’s shoe in a conversation. That was the reason he stood there like an idiot for the better part of a minute before deciding that he might as well go to school.</p><p> </p><p>Not a few steps later did the universe decide to literally rain on Akira’s day just when it was looking like it wasn’t going to be a complete shitshow. Akira did not check the forecast as the only thing he was expecting to be drowning in was pity and regret.</p><p> </p><p>Nearby on his left was some form of shelter while he attempted to wait out a break in the storm, he powerwalked over to a storefront’s awning and took refuge. He took out his phone and peered at the time, still about a half-hour until the first bell, he had plenty of time. About to turn the screen off and stare at passersby for entertainment, Akira noticed something in the corner of his phone: an app, one that appeared yesterday. An icon of black and red, a menacing red eye with a black background that looked like it was… vibrating? Shaking? Maybe it was glitching out; whatever the case, Akira did not want this spooky thing on his phone at all. He held it and dragged it to the delete icon, hoping that this time it would stay gone.</p><p> </p><p>Akira did not hear any footsteps near him, so when he turned to his left to see a girl there trying to dry herself off, he almost jumped. Rather, he stared. The girl was… also attractive. Blonde hair in pigtails, American heritage apparent, blue eyes, a little heavy on the makeup, but to each their own. She had her blazer on top of a hoodie, Shujin skirt, crimson leggings, and brown boots. If he heard that she was a model he would not be surprised.</p><p> </p><p>He did not realize that he was staring until their eyes met. He would think that he was being a rude asshole and was prepared to be told off, but the girl smiled at him like she was amused by his presence and returned to her business.</p><p> </p><p>Akira also turned away, not expecting any of that.</p><p> </p><p>A car pulled up, whose driver was a man whose face resembled a shovel in both shape and depth, and offered the girl a ride, to which she accepted and he declined when asked. They drove away, leaving Akira under the awning and rain alone. Akira pulled his phone out again when he saw that the rain wasn’t going to stop at this moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Goddammit…” A voice from in front of him said.</p><p> </p><p>Akira looked up from his phone. A boy joined him under the awning; another blonde, wearing a t-shirt under his blazer and the pants rolled up with Converse sneakers on. He was very loosely adhering to the dress code and Akira was a little surprised that it was still serviceable to a private school. The boy was staring in the direction the car went in. He was going to say something but he gave the boy a confused look and went back to his phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Yo.” The boy said again, making Akira look up from his phone. “You new? I haven’t seen you before.”</p><p> </p><p>Akira held his eye contact for a second and then went back down. “Yeah.” Was all that he said. Akira was not in the mood to talk small with people, even if he was going to be around them for the next year. Akira put his phone away and got off the wall he was leaning on, ready to finish the travel to school. The rain was, in fact, letting up, but that wasn’t the reason that he was going.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, let me show you the shortcut, or you’ll be late.” The blonde said to him. Akira didn’t want to be around him, but he also didn’t want to shout. So he shrugged and motioned for him to lead the way. Blondie flashed a toothy grin and led the way, that is to say, slouched the way.</p><p> </p><p>They walked in uneasy silence through a few alleys. At least, for Akira.</p><p> </p><p>“You see the dude in the car? That’s Kamoshida, the king of our castle.” He said, voice dripping with sardonic disdain.</p><p> </p><p>Akira really, really, really didn’t care about anything that he was saying, but he stayed quiet in the name of politeness. The only replies he made were grunts, hums, and nods that Blondie would never see.</p><p> </p><p>“Dickhead treats Shujin like some kind of playground, teachers, and students just there to suck his dick.”</p><p> </p><p>Okay, now Akira was getting interested, and not from the dick sucking. There would always be popular teachers but the more he said, the more Akira was likening it to either devil worship or harem anime. Probably both.</p><p> </p><p>“Do they really suck his dick?” Akira asked. He shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Hell if I know, but I wouldn’t be surprised at this point. He’s just the same kind of perverted fucker you see at manga cafes, but with a little more power.”</p><p> </p><p>Akira stumbled, using a brick wall from the adjacent building to keep himself upright. Blondie heard it and turned around, his face looking worried.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, you okay man?”</p><p> </p><p>Akira clenched his eyes shut, pain shooting through his synapses, down his limbs, and back again. It spread through his body and up into his brain, it was an arduous thing to even stand.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine, some migraine, probably.” Akira said, trying to reassure his newfound chaperone.</p><p> </p><p>Migraine would make sense, he hadn’t had a proper night's sleep in a month. Akira looked up and noticed something… strange. There was no other word for it, really.</p><p> </p><p>The entrance to Shujin was mostly normal, the entrance sign was there and all, but beyond that… The building went from a modern place of education to a… medieval castle. With a drawbridge. And unless Akira was hallucinating, which he most certainly was, he could’ve sworn he saw a streak of a lightning strike in front of it like the intro from Young Frankenstein. Further than that, the cloudy sky above was still cloudy but everything had changed color. The sky was a deep maroon, and there was a faint shimmer of red in the air, like the lightest form of fog.</p><p> </p><p>“Correct me if I’m wrong, but was Shujin supposed to redecorate since yesterday.”</p><p> </p><p>The Blonde gave him a weird look. “No, I don’t think so.” Then he turned around and saw what Akira was looking at. “What. The. Hell.” He said.</p><p> </p><p>Akira couldn’t have put it better.</p><p> </p><p>He felt his strength return in full as his body got used to the pain and stood up, releasing his hold on the wall. On inspection, the wall was still brick. The only thing that changed at all was Shujin itself. Curious, but not incredibly important.</p><p> </p><p>Blondie started to stammer something, coughed, and tried again.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess, uh, we should go in.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“There they are…” Ryuu wasn’t sitting on the top step of Shujin’s entrance, waiting for the tantalizing twosome of Shujin’s most fearsome delinquents (reportedly): Akira Kurusu, frizzy-haired criminal, and Ryuji Sakamoto, young, blonde, and violent.</p><p> </p><p>The two approached the school like they were walking back into the locker room after a tiring game. They looked exhausted. Ryuu brought his phone out and checked the time: it was almost 1 pm.</p><p> </p><p>The principal put him up to this. ‘Stand at the steps and make sure that they get a proper talking to, if they arrive at all, of course’, is what he said. Ryuu didn’t really want to, he would ask them what happened, and go from there. That was his plan.</p><p> </p><p>What wasn’t according to his plan was Kamoshida coming outside at the exact moment that Ryuu opened his mouth. The only thing that came out of it was a mumbled curse under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, well. What a pair, what have you two been up to?” Kamoshida smugly asked, hands on his hips. “You’re almost six hours late.”</p><p> </p><p>Ryuji looked absolutely shellshocked at that, his eyes opened and threatened to go past the limits of his eye sockets. Akira looked more concerned than anything.<br/>
<br/>
“Sorry, sir. A couple of thugs tried to pick a fight with me and he got caught up.” Akira explained, as if rehearsed, to Ryuu’s eye, sticking his thumb out to Ryuji. “We were trying to shake them before the school got involved.”</p><p> </p><p>Kamoshida raised a thick eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? You should’ve came straight here. Our staff can handle a few delinquents.”</p><p> </p><p>“Again. Sorry, sir.” Akira nearly mumbled, just audible enough for the teachers to hear.</p><p> </p><p>Kamoshida glanced at Ryuu, crossing his arms and giving his coworker a doubtful look. Ryuu shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Just let them in, Kamoshida. Kawakami and Ushimaru are gonna give them enough crap on their own.” Ryuu said as he rose from his seat. “Sakamoto, you know where he is, go get it over with.” He looked at Akira. “I’ll show you to the faculty room, Kurusu. Kawakami’s there waiting for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Sakamoto walked up the stairs, and after a mumbled back and forth with Kamoshida, they both retreated into the building. Kurusu came up the stairs quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on.” Ryuu said, opening the door and holding it for him.</p><p> </p><p>They walked the first floor in complete silence.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t think I gave you my name when we met yesterday. Name’s Ryuu Date. I teach history here, you’re in one of my classes.” Ryuu stopped at the bottom of the stairs to the second floor, turning to Kurusu and crossing his arms. “Listen, Kurusu, I heard about your record. Just… don’t let everything you hear get to your head, alright? Teenagers are dumb, everything they hear gets turned into something worse by the time it gets repeated out of their mouth.”</p><p> </p><p>Kurusu stood there, completely confused, and likely unsure of what to say. Ryuu knew what he was thinking, though.</p><p> </p><p>“You just remind me of me, when I was your age.” Ryuu offered him a small smile and turned around. “Come on, Kawakami’s waiting, and she’s not happy.”</p><p> </p><p>The walk to the faculty office after that was silent once more until Ryuu opened the door and handed Kurusu off to his homeroom teacher. Ryuu had seen Kawakami sad, entertained, and bored in the two days he’s known her, but he’s never seen her pissed, and good lord was she furious. Kurusu looking down at the ground and simply taking it made her calm down after about three sentences, and they left the room after that.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu took a seat at his desk, he didn’t have any classes until the one before the last bell, so he had some time to himself. An hour to get some preliminary work done, review the rosters again, lesson plans; something productive.</p><p> </p><p>Instead, Ryuu took out his phone, placed it on his desk, and unlocked it.</p><p> </p><p>On the very bottom of the screen, by the left corner, was an app. Red lines forming a sinister eye, on top of black. The title of the app? ‘Metaverse Navigator’. He had never seen this thing in app form, once upon a time, it was like a toll-free 1-800 number. The same principle, however.</p><p> </p><p>He found it on his phone when he entered his car after his… reunion. Interacting with Cuchulain after so long was draining, so much that when he returned to the proper reality, Kobayakawa, still standing outside the school and on his phone, thought Ryuu had simply collapsed. He even offered Ryuu a rest day to recover. It surprised him, he didn’t think that the man with the ego as big as he was round could be nice, but wouldn’t you know? The Metaverse Navigator had a history tab, one that relayed three fields: name, location, distortion.</p><p> </p><p>Kamoshida’s was ‘Shuji’ and ‘castle’. Fucker thought of Shujin as a castle that he was the king and could play around in as he pleased.</p><p> </p><p>His enjoyment of the irony of the statement leaked onto Ryuu’s face in the form of a grin. Kamoshida’s castle was his playground, that he could let loose and rampage to his content.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuu had an urge, to repeat what he did in high school: run around the place, look for clues, help people in need. The thing was, he was never the leader. He couldn’t make decisions, delegate, strategize, like his once did. Ryuu was a fighter, he wanted to have the toughest fights, the longest ones, the most grueling ones; ones that he may not be sure he could win, much less get out alive. To this day, that feeling had remained.</p><p> </p><p>But the voice in the back of Ryuu’s mind asked a simple question:</p><p> </p><p>‘Why not start now?’</p><p> </p><p>It was valid, he had the means, he had greater power as a teacher than he ever had as a student. He had a respectable salary, a few connections to work with. It could work out.</p><p> </p><p>There were a couple of problems, though. One, his personality and appearance didn’t exactly give him the visage of being someone that’s trustworthy, but with the actual legwork taking place in another reality, he supposed that didn’t matter very much. Two, and most importantly, did he even care? Is he doing this for the right reasons? To help those in need, defend those who can’t defend themselves against enemies that can’t be touched in normal ways?</p><p> </p><p>No, he would admit that himself. He would be doing this for the challenge and the love of the fight.</p><p> </p><p>But… Also… For redemption. To make up for the mistake he made, to make their sacrifice worth it.</p><p> </p><p>Whether he did this or not, fought for the wrong or right reasons, continued to fight at all, there was still one thing that Ryuu couldn’t get his head around in the first place. He stared at the app on his phone, clenching his teeth, furrowing his eyebrows. If the Metaverse Navigator was back, then that meant…</p><p> </p><p>Yaldabaoth woke up.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>cuchulain is in the game as a normal persona, quite a frequent one from the series, in fact. he's spelled as cu chulainn I think, as he's normally spelled in celtic myth, but I did the other version of his name to differentiate it from the normal one. almost called him by his English name: cuhullin, but the extra 'c' consonant sounds like a much better battle cry imo.</p><p>other considerations for his persona include: perses, the greek titan of rage, kratos, who we all know, tyr, a norse god of war, and bjarki, a berserker from norse myth who could turn into a bear and less known as an inspiration for beowulf.</p><p>cuchulain was my pick because i felt that he was the best fit for ryuu: not quite a god, but someone who just wants to fight, and another aspect that comes later.</p><p>yes, this is also a shusumi fic, read the damn tags :)</p><p>hopefully i actually stick with this one, because I've wanted to write this story for a year now. which means I'm probably not giving up, but school and work are bitches and anything can happen.</p><p>thank u to anyone that reads to the end, later ya'll</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What was all… that this morning?” The blond boy from this morning asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes clenched from the rippling pain inside his skull. “No idea.” He lowered his hand and opened his eyes. His classmate was leaning far back on an old, weathered desk legs propped up, arm over the back of the chair he was sitting on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two were on the roof of Shujin, mere hours after their… excursion to a castle adorned with underage girls and black-bruised boys. After numerous warnings to stay away from him, Akira was requested by the blond one to meet on the rooftop to discuss whatever happened earlier. Despite the warnings, Akira wanted to talk with him. Funny, a few hours ago he wanted nothing to do with anyone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kamoshida in a speedo, those knights, the cat… you.” He listed off, arms crossing on the final item. He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was the only thing Akira could say. Only thing he could even think of. Ever since the castle, a pounding pain had been stuck in his head that grew by the hour. Red and black splotches littered the corner of his vision that traveled to the center like ripples. He felt like this, he remembered, just before they first saw the castle. It was only after he heard that voice in his head that he ever felt it vanish. In fact, his head had never felt so clear in his whole life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Arsene, pillager of twilight. His Persona.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His demonic visage and eyes that stretched like a ‘V’ and continued like horns. His massive top hat and posh, yet demonic red suit. His wings that stretched from the small of his back and resembled both bat and feathered wings. His ‘true self’, he called it; ‘I am thou, thou art I’. His voice was loud, filled his head like the only drop of water in a vast, dry expanse. He spoke politely, and of things that Akira never knew he wanted until he had heard the words. He gave into them instantly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The very first thing he did was throw a spiral of cursed fire at Kamoshida’s face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While the King was too busy trying to not get his face melted off, he and the blond one locked him and his knights in the very cage they were imprisoned in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dude, what are you wearing?” He had asked. Akira had furrowed his brow and felt the hairs on his face rub on something. He looked down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t wearing the art experiment they called the Shujin uniform, but a black trench-coat, gray vest with gold lining, black boots, and crimson red gloves. He removed the thing on his face, a mask, pointed, jagged, much like the eyes of Arsene.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He felt powers like he could only dream of, that black fire that he threw at Kamoshida’s mug was just the start. He was stronger, faster, more durable, more aware. His eyesight was already good, but it felt like he could see the atoms of the things around him if he squinted, rearrange them if he reached out, hear them move as he moved them. Whatever that castle was, whatever it made it manifest, whatever the power inside him that gave birth to a demonic representation of some Sherlock Holmes spin-off character or something else that he didn’t care for; he wouldn’t mind doing it again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rush of power, of freedom. Arsene’s power flowing through his body was liberating, eye-opening, the box of a juvie cell, the box of a courtroom, the box of his shambled attic that he’ll call home until March; they all felt like mere inconveniences compared to the power of Persona. He wouldn’t mind relishing the power of it all over again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But that’s not here, that’s there, and what’s in front of him is a dyed blond ruffian that throws around the ‘fuck’ word more times than even he. That’s impressive.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you think?” Akira asked. Ryuji’s face scrunched almost comically.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“’Bout what?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“’Bout that castle? Should we go back?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji moved his mouth like his shaking mouthwash around. Took him a moment before he said anything. “Maybe.” He rubbed the back of his and leaned forward, hands folding on each other. “I mean, we saw the shit that was going on in there. I don’t know if those were real people or not, but they had… faces of people I know, people I’m friends with. I think we gotta try <em>something</em>, don’t you think?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira slid his hands in his pockets and sat on the desk that Blondie had his feet on. He moved his leg to give him room. He kept his hands in his pockets.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Truthfully, Akira didn’t give a single shit about saving anyone. He tried that at home, and that got ostracized, pariah-ed, and nearly got him tried as an adult for simply not watching some bald prick rape some woman in the middle of the street. If this, being shoved around detention centers, district courts, and holding cells for the better part of a month, was truly the effect of trying to ‘save’ someone, then he didn’t want to ‘save’ anyone. Under simpler circumstances, he would stay under the radar, ignore what all the drones are saying behind his back, and try to salvage some kind of life in his senior year.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But this wasn’t simpler circumstances, no. They were circumstances.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think we should see what the hell was going on in there, for one. I also wanna have a chat with that cat.” Akira said. Blondie groaned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ugh, that cat gives me the creeps.” He closed his eyes and, to Akira’s guess, imagine his bobblehead-shaped body with his nearly bulging eyes and funny scarf. He gagged and opened them again. “Yikes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira couldn’t help but give out a dry chuckle. His smile vanished near instantly. He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I dunno, if that’s what I really want, though.” Akira said. Blondie bobbed his head, nodding.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I feel that. I guess we’ll sleep on it, yeah?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Blondie stood up, patted Akira on the shoulder, and stuck out his fist. “I don’t think I told you my name, or if Kawakami mentioned it, but it’s Ryuji Sakamoto, fellow delinquent.” He said with a smile so sharp he might have had a shark teeth transplant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira stared at it for a moment, shook his head, and gave a smile, if sardonic. He returned the bump.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Akira Kurusu, <em>criminal </em>delinquent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji made a <em>‘</em>pft’ noise out the side of his mouth. “You the type to always gotta one-up me, huh?” He asked with a smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira shrugged. “Who knows.” Akira fixed the strap of his bag on his shoulder and stood up. “I’ve gotta get going, my guardian’s gonna try and turn me into some kind of coffee if I don’t explain earlier.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Coffee?” Ryuji asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He…” Akira paused, surprised that <em>that</em> was the thing he needed to ask about. “Owns a coffee shop.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji raised his eyebrows once. “Huh.” He shook his head. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow… Kurusu?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Akira’s fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then it’s Ryuji.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They exchanged another fist bump, and Ryuji left the roof of Shujin. Akira stayed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had no idea why he stayed. Maybe it was to think, or be alone, or be somewhere other than a dusty attic in a cafe. This school was already a bust, everyone knew his record when it was supposed to be confidential to only the teachers that were directly teaching him. Someone leaked it, probably some teacher. This roof was the only neutral zone he had, somewhere he could belong, if only because he could be alone. He could pick some other place in the nearby wards, in some cafe in Shibuya, some other alley in some other place, but the city is suffocating; it’s too loud, too crowded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then he had an idea.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira took out his phone, dialing a number he had saved last night at the behest of his new guardian. He scratched his cheek while the line rang.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Leblanc.” Sakura’s annoyance almost made Akira wince when he answered the phone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sakura-san? It’s Akira.” He said. Sakura breathed a heavy sigh, half-annoyed, half… pity?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your school called me, was Ryuu, he explained what happened.” A long pause. “I get it, shit happens, it was your first time on the trains, just… don’t make this a habit, alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira was taken aback, he was expecting to get chewed out, but maybe it was because it was over the phone? Or Date knowing Sojiro? Who knows. Akira nodded but forgot he was talking on the phone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I won’t.” Sojiro sighed again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good. That all you were calling about?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I was gonna ask if I could come back later, I wanted to walk around Shibuya, get a feel for the place.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another pause.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, makes sense. Frankly, I don’t care what you do, long as it’s not getting into trouble, just don’t stay out too late.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What time do you close?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Eight on weekdays, six on weekends.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damn, Sakura worked the early bird special.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll be back by then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good. Bye.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then he hung up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira lowered his phone and his head, letting out a sigh. That went so much better than he thought it would be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He raised his phone, scrolling through pages of apps until he found the one. Red eye on black, ‘MetaNav’ written under it. He tapped on it. A menu of black and red text took over his screen, it was currently on a ‘history’ tab, with a single result. It displayed:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>Name: Suguru Kamoshida</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Location: Shujin Academy</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Distortion: Castle</strong>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>There were only two other tabs. One that reads ‘Search’, which he could guess on what that does, and one that said ‘Completed’. That icon was grayed out, however.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira tapped on the only result in history and the world rippled. He blinked to clear his vision on instinct.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he opened them, he was greeted with a sight he never wanted to see ever again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was in a courtyard, from the looks of things, high enough that he could see the horizon. Cobblestone walls around him, cobblestone roofing below him, and around him…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Were bodies.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The ground was splattered in black and red liquids, some blood, some something different. There were pieces of the knights he had fought earlier during his escape with Ryuji littered across what he was assuming was the rooftop. A hand here, a leg there, a helmet with dulled green eyes somewhere else. There were others, too. Bodies in steel armor, bodies in red, small ones with wings, with pumpkin heads. All in different pieces and stacked on each other like they were thrown in a ditch to be burned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira stared wide-eyed, dazed and confused. He did not move, he could not; if he did, he might join the mass grave in front of his very eyes. The one who did it might still be around.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira pulled the gall to move his arm to reach into his pants pocket and getting his phone out, the overwhelming desire to be anywhere that isn’t where he was right this moment overpowering his fear. He opened the Nav to flee this place, but noticed a new menu: ‘Travel’. There was only one listing: ‘Entrance’.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Praying that it wasn’t where he was standing, he tapped it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He blinked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was back at the entrance to the castle, not far from the vent that Ryuji, the cat, and himself escaped from this morning. Most importantly, he was the only body here. He let out a breath of relief.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re back so soon?” A bright-sounding voice steeled Akira’s body again but loosened when he found that he recognized it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello, cat.” Akira said, turning around to face the cat, who was standing on top of some wooden boxes to the side of the castle’s front door. His face turned angry, cartoonishly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am not a cat! My name is Morgana!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira tried to rub his face, a mask was in its way, so he settled with his forehead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry, Morgana.” He took his hands off his face and met the ca- Morgana’s eyes. “It’s been a day.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana gave something that resembled a sympathetic smile, but his cat features made him just goofy. “No worries. I bet you weren’t thinking that anything like this was going to happen today.” He squatted down on the box and took a seat. “So what brings you here so soon?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wanted to talk with you. Alone.” Akira said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana tilted his bobbleheady head. “What about?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira glanced around out of habit. He knew there was no one nearby. “About… Everything, I guess.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana shifted in his seat, getting comfortable. “Ask away.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>Akira took a deep breath through his nose. “What is this place, exactly?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana’s yellow eyes glowed like traffic lights. “This place is a Palace. It’s the representation of a person’s desires deep in their heart.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira squinted like the cat was feeding him bullshit, but he tried to think.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, Kamoshida thinks what he is to Shujin is a king to a castle?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana smiled. “Yep! …or something like that. I don’t know the guy, but this kind of place does tell you things.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira grimaced. “What kind of things?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Things you don’t want to hear unless you have to.” Morgana said through gritted teeth and a cartoonishly sad face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fair enough. Moving on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s the difference between the Kamoshida of this world to the one in the real world?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana’s face turned back on like a switch had been flipped. “It’s his basest desires personified.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So… Kamoshida’s basest wants are being an ego-driven, pedo-rapist, sociopath?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh… Something like that.” Morgana said softly, rubbing his paw on the back of his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira looked around again. He had to ask.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have you been in a… I don’t know, a… a courtyard or something on a rooftop?” Akira asked, apprehensive.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana gave him a weird look. “No, I only made it to the first floor. Why? What happened?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira paused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When I came here this time, I did it from the school roof, and I ended up there, and… It was… littered with bodies.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana froze, his comically large eyes becoming even wider, his pupils shrinking to little dots in the whites of his eyes. He blinked. Then blinked again. And again. “…bodies?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira crossed his arms, the red of his gloves entering his vision. Guess he changed clothes every time he came back. “Yeah… Of the knights from earlier, and those things we fought earlier… ‘Shadows’, you called them?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana gulped, a lump in his throat visible in his throat. “That’s…” Morgana’s voice was small, tiny, afraid. “When we kill shadows, they dissipate into nothing. That’s what should happen when they die. But…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was Akira’s turn to swallow a lump. It was getting harder to breathe. “Then, what could it be?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana stared at the box he was sitting on. “One of two things, either something in the Palace is changing because of Kamoshida’s cognition, or…” He trailed off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Or..?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“…or there’s something strong enough to bend the rules of Palaces to their will.” Morgana paused. “Or someone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira stopped and paled. He scratched his throat, it was getting harder and harder to breathe. He swallowed once to try and speak again, he swallowed again when nothing came out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you wanna do?” Morgana asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira swallowed again, letting himself breathe for a moment. “I don’t know.” He put his arms in his pockets. “Like you said earlier, I might be able to help people if I help you, but, last time I did that nothing came out well for me or them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana stared at him, face as neutral as Akira had ever seen it. He pursed his cat lips, unsure of what to say, most likely. “I… I have to do this. I don’t know why, but I don’t remember where I came from, but I <em>know</em> that if I take this Palace down, I’ll start getting somewhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira stared at Morgana. It was all he could do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Listen, I really, really want your help, Akira. I know you might not want to, though, and I get it, fighting isn’t everyone's thing. I just want you to think about it, I’ll look for you in a few days if I don’t see you here again. That okay?” Morgana asked, the pleading in his voice almost making Akira cave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira also almost giggled. Fighting wasn’t the reason why he was apprehensive. Far from it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, Morgana, I’ll think about it.” Akira pulled out his phone and found the big red button that said ‘Return from Palace’ in big shiny red lettering. “I’ll catch you later.” He tapped on it, leaving Morgana alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Akira blinked, he was in an alleyway across the entrance from the school. Guess where you are in the real world correlated to where you were in the Palace, then. He looked down at his phone to check the time, he was only in the Palace for about 15 minutes. He told Sakura that he would be walking around Shibuya for the better part of the day, and it’s not like he knows anyone that he can chill with, so…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why not do just that?</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>When Akira went into the Metaverse, it was like the two worlds were folding in on each other. It’s a hard thing to describe in his words. If he had to make a shot, it would be like sliding two sheets of paper over the another until they were perfectly in place and then continuing the other way. The natural colors of the world and the sanguine theme of the Metaverse became one stark rainbow after he traveled to the Palace, and then the reds became the main color that he saw once the travel was complete.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Where he was now, it felt the same, but with blues.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira had been here before, wherever that may be. The rhythmic dripping of water woke him up, he thought the roof was leaking in his shitty attic. When his eyes snapped open, the roof was made of stone instead. The only lights around were from candles. Akira shot up in his bed. He wasn’t wearing his normal pajama pants and shirt that he slept in, he was wearing the black and white stripes of a prisoner.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn’t even surprised anymore.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stand, Trickster. Let me have a look at you.” A deep, impossibly deep voice said to him from beyond where he sat. His eyes shot towards it, a door of bars between him and whatever it was. Akira stood and hobbled over. His hands were cuffed, loosely, and his legs were chained, tightly. He almost tripped going to the door, but he made it, and wrapped both hands around a bar on the cell door. The door was thin, about as thin as the room was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The thing on the other side of the bars was someone he saw before, in a dream, but he had discarded it as some hallucination or metaphor of his subconscious of something that he didn’t know. Akira paid more attention to it this time. It looked like a hobbled man, impossibly thin with an impossibly big head, impossibly huge eyes that poked out of his head with bloodshot retinas. Its nose was impossibly long, long, and thin enough to poke a fish and have it stay. Its mouth stayed in an impossibly wide grin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira uses the words ‘it’ and ‘impossibly’ because there’s no way in hell that this <em>being</em> in front of him is human, and that he should be terrified of its presence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ve met briefly once before, but we did not have much chance to speak, so allow me to introduce myself.” The thing sat in the middle of a circular room beyond the doors, cross-legged behind a desk with books and papers stacked on it, himself surrounded by more empty cells.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Welcome to <em>my</em> Velvet Room.” He said. “You may call me Igor.” He shot a glance towards either side of the cell. “Girls, make yourselves known.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Two girls in matching outfits came out to the light. They wore matching prison guard outfits, blue, and wearing shorts, and blue guard caps. they looked like they were bought out of a kids' costume shop. The one on the left had her gray hair in a long braid and an eyepatch on her right eye. She looked like she could care less about where she was. The one on his right had her hair in braided twin buns and an eyepatch on the other eye. She looked angry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“On your left, is Justine. On the right, Caroline. They are the wardens of this prison, and they will observe and guide your rehabilitation.” Igor said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Rehabilitation?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The one called Caroline bashed the cell door with a nightstick, making Akira jump and tear his hands off the bars. He settled back quickly. “Do not address our master unless spoken to, welp!.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Igor just kept on talking, though. “The Velvet Room is a reflection of your heart, how you feel about yourself and the world around you.” Igor looked about the room. “I suppose a prison is a fitting place, given your circumstances.” He said neutrally. “You are a prisoner to society, yourself, and to fate itself.” He paused, grimacing. “You will face ruin and will fall along with the world. To prevent that, you must be rehabilitated and challenge the very distortion that is plaguing the world.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A siren started blaring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Igor’s grin faded into a frown. It made him look even more terrifying, that a being such as he could possess emotion is much more frightening to Akira than the wicked grin he wore. “But it seems we are out of time. We will surely meet again, when your rehabilitation truly begins.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Velvet Room faded into a deep blue and then a further black, then nothing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira opened his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief on seeing the old, splintering boards of the Leblanc attic’s ceiling. He sat up and stared out the window. It was still night. He reached for his phone to check the time, it read 3:30 am.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Motherfucker…” Akira groaned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rehabilitation. Ruin. ‘When it truly begins’. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira lied back down in his bed with a thud.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is fucked. So fucked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He quickly fell asleep. His dreams stayed silent, this time.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Today was a volleyball rally at Shujin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira didn’t care about the sport, nor school spirit, nor anything, so he sought to make a like a tree and get out of there. He also wanted to talk with Ryuji about what happened two days ago at the castle. He couldn’t find him. He wasn’t in the gym where the rally was happening, not in his classroom, he wasn’t answering texts, no idea at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He gave up after ten or so minutes of texting and running around, settling that he’ll try again tomorrow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira walked out the front door to Shujin academy in his regular clothes that he packed just for this occasion. There weren’t any classes in the afternoon, so no attendance, no presence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira very nearly turned the first corner to the left that would get him to the station, where he would board a train to Shibuya for another day of exploring and jerking off all over the place until he wasn’t bored; but something caught his eye.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A familiar blond boy in a Shujin uniform, and a cat with yellow eyes, just… pop into existence. In an alleyway directly across from the school.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira’s legs stalled like a failing car engine, he was planted where he stood, staring at the two as they started to yell and curse at each other. The fact that Morgana was… speaking in the real world was something that was helping his inability to move, but the biggest point that he was focused on was that they, quite literally, ‘popped’ into existence; like a popcorn kernel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just. Poof.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira recovered from his state of shock to approach them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where’ve you been?” Akira asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji almost jumped off the ground. “Fuck man, don’t scare me like that.” Ryuji breathed a healthy breath. He pulled his phone out and frowned. “Sorry, bro. I was at the castle, didn’t get your texts.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira tilted his head. “You went alone?” With no superpowers or demonic/angelic/biblical/metaphorical version of yourself with a fancy hat? Akira did not say that, but that was the main point.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji rubbed the back of his head. “Well... That’s what the cat-.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Morgana!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Morgana</em>, got me here for. And, uh, I have one now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira raised his eyebrows. “You have a Persona?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji nodded, looking awfully proud of himself. “Yep. Drake, looks like an awesome pirate. Pretty badass, huh?” Ryuji crossed his arms and flashed a grin at Morgana, hoping for some assurance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana just slid right past it. “With him, now we’ve got more manpower to take that Palace down.” He turned sheepish. “Unless you don’t…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira closed his eyes and let out a yawn. Sleep came in spurts, last night. “Maybe. Give me another day or two.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana brightened. “That’s all I wanted.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira was going to pretend that the reason that he purposefully triggered an awakening in Ryuji was for the manpower and to persuade him, and not to have a backup plan in case he himself said ‘no’.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, whatever.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked at Ryuji. “I’ll catch you later, man.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira walked away from the alley, going towards the train station. He walked until he heard a commotion to his left, in a tiny space that held vending machines and a few benches outside of the school. The walls of the school bent inwards, like an improvised bus stop to give the resting students some semblance of privacy. He heard an argument between two girls.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you mean you ‘have to’? You can just walk away!” One of them said, irate to all hell.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You… you don’t understand. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” The other voice said, small and timid, and tired.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A girl came out of the cubby and towards him. Pale girl, black hair in a ponytail, dressed in athletic gear of a tank top and shorts. The first thing he noticed was her legs. The odd splotches of color on them, barely noticeable, but there. It was makeup, and the odd bandage covered them as well. Her face, pointed to the ground as she walked past him, had more bandages on it than necessary. She walked right, not registering his presence, and went into the school.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then crying came out from the space she came out of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took another step to come into view of her. It was the girl that was under the awning with him the first day of school: the beautiful, blond girl. She sat in front of him in class, her name was Ann Takamaki. As many rumors that were about him, there were more about her. She held her face in her hands, sobbing, sitting on a bench.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira felt something droop in him at the sight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Don</em><em>’t get involved.</em> He told himself. <em>It</em><em>’s not your business, just walk away and do something else.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira gulped and walked towards her, he crouched down in front of her. “You okay?” He asked, getting the handkerchief that came with his uniform out and holding it out to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Takamaki raised her head, Akira felt the most anger, annoyance, and hatred that he’s felt pinned on him in his entire life. She must have been thinking it was someone else, for when their eyes met, they all vanished. She still looked apprehensive, but she took the cloth and started wiping her eyes, sniffling all the while.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira just watched, he didn’t know what to do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She opened her eyes and looked at him, still squatting, and let out a dry laugh. She scooted over on the bench that she was basically in the middle of. Akira took the signal and took a seat next to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sat quietly, listening to her sniffling and wiping her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks.” Takamaki says eventually. He looked over to her, she was holding out the handkerchief to him to take back, but the large wet spots in the middle just made him stare. It took her a minute until she realized why he wasn’t taking it and just crumpled it up. “I’ll… I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure.” Akira said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They sat quietly. Akira was screaming on the inside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That was Shiho, my best friend. She’s the star of the volleyball team…” She stared at the ground, hands at her sides resting on the wooden bench. “He hits her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira’s eyes snapped. “What?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kamoshida. He hits her. He hits them all.” Her voice went small and shaky.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Does… anyone know?” Akira asked despite it feeling like a stupid question.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Takamaki let out a dry breath. “Yeah, everyone knows. The teachers, principal, students, parents. They just let him do what he wants because he got this shitty, no-name school to nationals one year.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira shook his head. “This school is fucked.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Takamaki smiled, but her eyes stayed empty.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve been here, what, two or three days? Took you long enough.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t want to leave yet, either.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This school spews shit out like crazy. The volleyball team, the other school clubs getting cut because Kamoshida didn’t run them, the rumors…” Takamaki started. “Everyone calls me a whore, says I’m sleeping with Kamoshida.” She looked at him, a little amusement in her eyes. “They say you killed someone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira snorted. “Just assault.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t think you have.” He looked at her, meeting her eyes now. “I don’t think you could punch some dude out of nowhere but give a crying girl a handkerchief.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She stood up. “Call me, Ann, Kurusu-san.” She said, smiling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Akira, please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She smiled a bit more, her eyes not dead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure, Akira. Thanks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>A day later, Akira thought about that conversation with Ann. When he heard about Kamoshida abusing the team, everyone knowing about it, but nobody doing anything about it, it seemed strange to him. Maybe he had backup from the principal, the other teachers, it had to have happened before. Nobody could have stayed silent his whole time here, right?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, Akira finally understood what the meaning of ‘trapped’ was. He thought that being in a jail cell was being trapped, but he always had hope of his soon-to-be court date. He thought being in a rigged court session was being trapped, but he always had hope that this probation could be simple. He thought that being stuck in a dirty attic in a foreign city was being trapped, but it was temporary and he would be free after the year.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now, as he was staring through a window, watching Shiho fall from the Shujin Academy rooftop and to the grass of the school courtyard, he figured it out. Being trapped was not having a choice and no way out. Akira was never trapped, he was stuck, he was always able to wiggle out of whatever he was in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shiho was trapped in an endless cycle of pain and helplessness. Any attempt that she had to get out, any cry for help was ignored and she was told to just deal with it until she graduates.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira watched Ann run down into the courtyard where she landed and traversed a sea of students taking pictures for clout and incompetent teachers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yo.” Akira turned his head and saw Ryuji behind him, motioning to follow him. Akira did so. Finding a part of the hallway on the second floor that wasn’t filled with students.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s up?” Akira asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know Mishima? The sad-looking kid in your class?” Akira nodded, he knew he was talking about, at least. “He ran off to the practice building, full sprint. He knows something.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira didn’t need to hear anymore. He nodded. “Lead the way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mishima was hiding in the boy’s locker room, his arms wrapped around himself and hyperventilating. Ryuji walked up to him, his hands clenched into fists.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What did you do?” Ryuji demanded. Mishima looked up at him, terrified.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I… I… I don’t… I don’t know.” Mishima mumbled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira heard enough. Fuck this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He slammed his fist into the locker behind Mishima. The steel pained his fist, but it was necessary.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cut the shit. Tell me what happened to Shiho or I will do to you <em>exactly</em> why I have a record.” Akira’s threat came out more naturally than he thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mishima jumped, almost about to cry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kamo-Kamoshida asked me to get Suzui… And then he locked the door… and and and and… the noises she made…” Mishima wasn’t breathing anymore. Akira didn’t care. He looked at Ryuji.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji matched Akira’s widened eyes. The noises? She made?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh fucking no.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Akira could blink, Ryuji sprinted out of the locker room. Akira backed off of Mishima and followed after him. Even with his bum knee, the guy had some kind of speed. Akira lost him soon after and had to follow his voice, his screaming voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the fuck?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is wrong with you?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How could you do this?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira finally caught up with Ryuji, watching him yell and scream and holler at Kamoshida, who was sitting at a computer in a messy gym office. He had his arms folded, still sitting, and not impressed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have no idea why you are screaming in my office, Sakamoto.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know exactly why, motherfucker.” Ryuji strut up to him and reached down to grab Kamoshida’s collar and pulling his face close. “You know exactly what you did to Suzui, you made her jump off a fucking rooftop, and you’re gonna sit here and act like you had nothing to do with?” Ryuji’s voice got low and growly, Akira never thought that Ryuji’s loud ass could ever get like this, but…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Take your hands off me, now.” Kamoshida ordered. Ryuji wasn’t budging. Akira saw his right fist loosen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira walked up to him, hurriedly, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Ryuji, it ain’t worth it.” Ryuji turned his head and gave Akira the same look that he was giving Kamoshida, but with a shake of his head and steeled stare, Ryuji backed off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kamoshida snickered, a sick smirk on his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, well, you didn’t learn the first time, huh? I gotta break your other leg?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji was fuming, Akira was shocked. Kamoshida was the one who broke his leg?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lots of things were starting to fall into place, now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kamoshida turned around back to his computer, waving his hand. “Get out of my office, you tell anyone what you think happened, nobody will do anything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira put a hand on Ryuji’s shoulder and turned him around, getting out of the office.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, and I’m mentioning your names at the next board meeting for expulsion.” Kamoshida said, just as they were about to leave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?” Akira nearly yelled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can’t have you two kids putting your hands on teachers, now can we? Enjoy your school time before it ends, kids.” Kamoshida tilted his head so that the two could see his smirk. “Have a nice day.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira and Ryuji reconvened at the courtyard of the school where vending machines and benches were, the place where people who want some peace and quiet go to. The place where Shiho fell to the ground was in sight from here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira leaned on the side of a vending machine while Ryuji paced around to keep his fist from entering into any nearby objects and/or people nearby. Namely Akira.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is fucking bullshit.” Ryuji seethed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Amen.” Akira agreed. “I guess we don’t have a choice now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji scrunched his face up like he had no idea what Akira was talking about.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We tell Morgana we’re in.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji’s face unscrunched and started nodding. “Yeah, we gotta find him and-.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“ I want in.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A voice rang out and made Ryuji jump. Akira looked over to the entrance to the small area. Standing there, with her hands in her hoodies’ pockets, was Ann.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You want in?” Akira asked, arms crossed. “You don’t even know what we’re planning.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann eyed him, not blinking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The doctors told me what happened.” Ann said, flatly. “I don’t care what you guys have planned, I want in. I want that fuck in the ground.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji looked like he really wanted to say something, but Akira kept the conversation flowing. “It’s not going to be easy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t fucking care.” Ann was getting irritated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Akira, bro, wait.” Ryuji said with a hand on Akira’s shoulder. “She can’t do what we can, we can’t bring her along.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How long did it take you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How long did it take you when you went with Morgana?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji thought about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe an hour?” He said. “I just saw some shit in there and I got pissed and…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think it’ll take less for her.” Akira said, motioning to Ann. “Let’s take her with us. We’ll have a full crew.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji stared at Ann and her unchanging face.<br/><br/></p>
<p>“Aight, fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good.” Akira said. “Let’s go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira walked out of the courtyard, hands in his pockets, head held high. The only sounds in the school were the three’s footsteps traveling the halls. The school felt oddly quiet. The school canceled classes after Shiho’s… situation, but he would’ve thought that maybe some teachers would stay behind, some cops would be here, doing damage control or something; but the school was a wasteland.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If this was the reaction to what happened, then Shiho truly was trapped, and the ones that tried to fight against it fell even worse than she.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Leaving the school from the front door and stopping in the alleyway he found Ryuji and Morgana in yesterday, Akira drowned out the noise from the two blonds behind him and pulled his phone out, opening the Metaverse Navigator and tapping the Palace on his history without another word.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann awakened barely minutes after they entered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first glimpse of Akira seeing Ryuji’s outfit and Persona lead to his unsurprise. His mask was a skull mask, his outfit a leather jacket and pants with combat boots, metal pads, and a red scarf. He looked like a punk, but that’s what the world saw him as: a delinquent, uneducated shit with a limp, Yakuza lean, and dyed hair that talked up a storm and ready to bring another. If these outfits were simply them wearing their hearts on their sleeves, then it fit, certainly. Ryuji looked like something that he wasn’t, but there was something beyond that, but more than anything, he was okay with that image for he would be himself no matter what.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His Persona was Drake. It was skeleton riding a spiked, weathered ship. The skeleton matched his outfit: a dark duster, same dark pants, and boots, a tricorne atop his head with a skull symbol on it and a red feather, matching a red scarf around his neck. He held a cutlass in one hand and a flintlock pistol in the other.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann’s awakening happened as soon as he saw the picture of Kamoshida in the main lobby of the castle: a portrait that took up the whole wall to the ceiling. Portrayed was the king himself flexing his chest and arms with a dumb grin, shirtless girls clawing at his feet. Akira recognized some of them, Shiho and Ann were two of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann screamed and thrashed at the sight of it. The moment she stopped the painting burned to ash, a trail of smoke and fire fired from her and a single name from her lips:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Carmen.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A woman in a red frilly dress and ample chest window leading to an equally ample chest. Black hair in curled pigtails and her face concealed by a black cat mask. Her stilettos on top of a tinier suited person with a heart for a head, a leash in her hand, another one being pulled by the other floating in the air.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann’s uniform was replaced by a red catsuit with a cut on the top of her chest, too many zippers than Akira could count, pink gloves, and a matching cat mast to her Persona in the same red as her outfit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The three came outside of the castle to let Ann catch her breath. The awakening process was draining, enough to make you want to crawl onto the nearest flat surface and die.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann sat on a box outside. Ryuji and Akira stood in front of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, how’d it feel?” Akira asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Liberating.” Ann said without another beat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re not gonna do anything without you, so we’ll wait until tomorrow.” Ann opened her mouth to protest Akira, but he stopped her train of thinking. “Awakening is too taxing and we’re not gonna get any progress trying to fight Shovelhead without you and Morgana.”<br/><br/></p>
<p>“You keep saying the name ‘Morgana’ but who is he?” Ann asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira and Ryuji both looked at each other, then both sighed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s-.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s-.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I see you two made up your minds?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Speak of the devil.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well. Cat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The cat of the hour swooped down from somewhere, Akira was guessing the ramparts behind him above the gate and landed next to Ann. His triumphant expression irritatingly present as ever. He noticed that he had a seatmate and looked to his right at her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira thought that he had seen the extent of how wide somethings eyes could go, but yet again, the Metaverse disproved that. Morgana’s eyes almost touched each other with how much they grew, his jaw dropped, and maybe even drooled at the sight of Ann Takamaki.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Meowvelous…” Was all that could come out from the awestruck cat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira pinched his temple. “God fucking dammit, the cat’s in love.” He mumbled under his breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji shook his head, crossed his arms. “This ain’t gonna end well…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira released the pinch on his forehead and looked at Ann. She was having a hard time coming to terms with the bobble-headed cat in front of her, she just stared for a long time. When she realized she could move, she jumped up off the crate and took cover behind Akira and Ryuji.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why the hell is there a monster cat here?! And talking?!” Ann all but shrieked, peering at Morgana from behind Akira’s shoulder. Morgana looked positively deflated but recovered quickly. Akira had to give him props, he had ambition.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am <em>not</em> a cat, I <em>am Morgana!</em>” He said, shaking a fist. He sighed. “So, you guys are in to take this Palace?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Palace?” Ann asked, making a habit of cutting off every word in the past three hours at this point.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira sighed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira and Morgana filled her in as best they could, Ryuji listening and picking his nose, as he does.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay.” Ann relented.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay?” Akira asked, a little concerned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I think I’ve gone insane.” Ann said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“About the whole thing, or…?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mostly the cat, but yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira brushed past Morgana deflating so much he might as well be a balloon. “That’s basically the gist. We’re gonna start the work tomorrow to take this place down.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We just need to find where the treasure is, not actually take it, yeah?” Ryuji asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana nodded, game face on. “Yes. We can’t steal the treasure until Kamoshida is aware that it could be taken. For now, we find it, with my nose of course, and secure a route.” Morgana said, tapping his nose.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait, wait, wait.” Ann said, waving her arms in an ‘X’. “Th- Morgana is gonna fight with us?” She asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana glowed. “Of course, I have a Persona as well! Feast your eyes.” Morgana extravagantly leaped into the air and spun, landing on his feet with a paw to the sky.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come! Zorro!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zorro came in a flash of blue fire as Persona’s do. Behind Morgana stood a tall and burly figure in fancy black studded leather. His jacket had frilled designs up the sleeves and collar. His head was a small trilby with large yellow eyes that matched its user. A belt around its waist with red cloth and silver metal that displayed a ‘Z’. He used a rapier held with black gloves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Huh.” Was all Ann said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Impressive, I know. It renders all who gaze upon it speechless with awe and reverence.” Morgana regaled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann scratched her cheek.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was expecting a bigger cat.” She said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If a pout made noise, then Morgana’s would’ve deafened the world.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The plan was set.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Today would be the first day of the infiltration into Kamoshida’s palace. They would get justice for Shiho, Ryuji, Ann, and every student, alma mater and otherwise that ever attended Shujin and had to deal with his abuse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But first, Akira was being led by Kawakami into the student council room because she wanted to talk with him, during his lunch of all times. She was spouting something around, some bullshit that he didn’t care about, catching keywords like ‘behavior’ and other such. He just kept his hands in his pockets and trailed her, for fear of saying something that he would regret.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He most definitely would, given the opportunity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The opportunity presented itself when they reached the student council room at last. She had turned to face him and was saying something but the only thing that he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears. Out of the councilor’s office next to the student council room was Kamoshida, with a student in uniform. A girl.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira kept breathing as his eyes locked with Kamoshida’s, every morsel of his body demanded he lunges at the fucker and cut his throat with the sharp part of a metal ruler, gut him with a mechanical pencil. Akira stayed motionless, gulping a lump down his throat, trying to keep some form of calm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He would get his, soon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two teachers were spouting something to each other, but Akira had moved his eyes and attention to the girl. He had met her before, on the train on his first day. Redhead, long hair, thick glasses, sad look in her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira wasn’t religious, but he prayed to whatever god that could hear him to keep the girls in the school safe until their work was finished.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“-you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira blinked. The girl was talking to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pardon?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wanted to thank you again, for your help the other day.” She said, still sad, still tired.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kamoshida whipped his head around and looked at her like he was told that he <em>wasn</em><em>’t</em> a serial pedophile/rapist/child-beater. “You know this guy, Yoshizawa?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The girl, Yoshizawa, nodded. “Yes, he gave me a hand on my first day of school.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kamoshida crossed his arms and huffed. “Well, don’t take it again. Remember what I said about people not to associate with?” He pointed a finger at Akira. “This guy’s at the top of the list.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yoshizawa looked nonplussed and chose to stare at the floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you’ll excuse us.” Kawakami said, tired of this whole interaction and opening the door to the student council room, ushering Akira inside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira, just to piss off everyone above the age of 18 that was around him, had an idea.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Catch you later, Yoshizawa.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kamoshida’s pissed face was completely worth the possible reprimand from Kawakami.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira and his teacher took a seat across each other, across the sizable square wooden table. Kawakami crossed her arms and legs, and Akira didn’t bother to hide how bored and irate he was. He leaned forward, resting his head on his hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did I do something, Kawakami-sensei?” He asked, as innocent as his delinquent persona could manage.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kawakami got annoyed, quick. “That’s what I’d like to know, Kurusu-kun. Kamoshida-san asked me to talk to you, make sure you aren’t engaging in any behavior that could get you in trouble. Do you know why he would ask me such a thing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira made a show of shrugging. “Dunno, haven’t done anything wrong.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Boy is that the truth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kawakami stared at him, squinting, and finally relented with a sigh. “Well, whatever, long as I don’t hear anything, I suppose you haven’t.” She paused, eying him again. “By the way, you didn’t make a pass at that girl, did you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That made Akira stand up straight. He wasn’t expecting that kind of question. He answered what he considered to be the truth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She’s cute.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“Codenames?” Ann asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, we have no idea what would happen spouting our names around in someone's subconscious, so we should give ourselves codenames, just in case.” Morgana explained, standing on the crate that he loved to perch himself on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s not a bad idea…” Ryuji looked around. “Where the hell is Akira?” He asked to no one in particular.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He said he was scouting ahead.” Morgana said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, whatever. I know what I want to be.” Ryuji proclaimed. He pointed a thumb to his chest. “Call me Skull!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh... Skull?” Ann asked like it was the dumbest thing she’s ever heard. Could’ve been, for all she knew.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah! Cause… Y’know.” He pointed to his mask.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, as long as you’re okay with it…” Ann mumbled, hands on her hips. “What about me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji crossed his arms, looking Ann up and down, a dumb grin coming to his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“SexyCat.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann smacked the color out of his face without a moment's pause.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ow!” Ryuji rubbed his face. Ann closed her eyes, walking away from Ryuji and rubbing her hand. “Well, guess I deserved it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What would you like to be called, Lady Ann?” Morgana asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Panther shifted her weight, looking at what reflection she could see on the nearest reflective surface: a metal pole holding a streetlight. She squinted at it and looked down at her shoes. She raised her head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Panther.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Any reason why?” Ryuji asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, cat mask, and that sounds a lot better than just ‘cat’.” She said. Ryuji shrugged, accepting that answer. He looked at Morgana.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about you, Morgana?” Ryuji asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He shrugged. “I don’t know, whatever you guys think is fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cat.” Ryuji blurted out. He lost it the moment his mouth closed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am not a cat, and I will not be called one!” Morgana yelled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Gee, how long did you have that saved for?” Ann asked, not impressed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji held up a hand while he collected his shit, and once he recovered his breath he spoke again. “Like… five minutes ago.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann rolled her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Could you guys be any louder?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The three turned their head to the returning Akira, who slid back to the entrance after squeezing through the vent that they use as an entrance point.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yo, Akira, got any ideas for a code name for him?” Ryuji threw a thumb over to Morgana, who was still radiating with feline fury.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m Skull.” He pointed to Ann. “She’s Panther.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cat.” Akira said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji held his stomach, if he let go, then the wheezing from his laugh would grant him a stomach ulcer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann was still not impressed. She crossed her arms. “Serious ones, please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Akira looked at Morgana. He was similarly not impressed at his answer, but it was sincerely the first thing off his head. The others’ codename was based on their outfits, and there was nothing noteworthy about Morgana’s appearance <em>except</em> being a cat. So if that didn’t work, then…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mona.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ooo, I like it. It’s cute!” Ann cooed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana could literally, not look more full of himself. “Then I will be called Mona.” He said, paws on his cat hips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So what about Akira?” Ryuji, regaining control of his lungs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I’ve got that figured out already.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You do?” Akira asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana nodded, a smile on his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Joker.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The Palace was bigger than expected.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The four made their way through more prison cells, some dining rooms, some waiting rooms, and more than enough hallways to make a penitentiary system jealous.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The more the four made their way through the Palace the more they wanted to hurl. Statues of women's bust littered every interior of the castle, portraits of Kamoshida with more glory than he’ll ever have covered the walls like tacky wallpaper. Akira wanted to hurl. He could only imagine how it was for the two with him that had more history with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were progressing smoothly, despite the castle’s decor. The Shadow’s within the castle were weak, bottom of the barrel according to Morgana, but with so were they. Even so, it was decent exercise, and Akira could feel his connection with Arsene growing by the minute.  The more Shadows he took down, the stronger it became, the clearer his mind felt. As long as he kept fighting and winning, he would grow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And damn, he loved to grow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His body was light enough that backflips and somersaults were child's play. He was strong enough to lift a table with one hand over his head. His hearing was good enough to hear a door lock from the next ward over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He felt alive. More than he ever was. Even if he wasn’t strong in the grand scheme of things, he felt like he was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kamoshida didn’t stand a chance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We good to go?” Mona asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The four were in a ‘safe room’, Mona called it. They were parts of the Palace where the ruler’s cognition and distortion were weak and were absent of Shadows and control from them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah.” Joker said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yep!” Panther chirped.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s rock.” Skull said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Joker led the four out of the safe room and into a hallway. Following the hall, the four came into a square room and into another hallway with a door at the end.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can sense a strong Shadow, the strongest so far. Take time to prepare, everyone.” Mona said, eyes slanted in concentration.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Joker flipped his knife as he observed everyone prep their gear. He had a dagger and a TT-30 pistol, procured from an airsoft shop that he got all the weapons from. Guy who sold them, Iwai, was shady to all hell, but he had some quality stuff.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ryuji had a baseball bat and an Ithaca pump-action.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ann had a leather whip and an Uzi.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morgana had a cutlass and a slingshot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everyone reloaded their guns and prepped their melee’s. From what Morgana said, as long as weapons look real enough in this world, then they will function like what they look like. So, airsoft guns will work like real guns, and with infinite ammo, they just had to reload them. Magazine and clips are common knowledge, so they had to adhere to some form of realism.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Joker tossed and caught his knife while he waited by the door. When everyone was on standby, he opened the door and signaled to follow. He was the de facto leader, and he was decent at it. There was never a conversation, he was the only one who gave orders.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The door led to a cathedral. Red walls, more statues of naked girls, pews filling the room, and a red carpet that divided the room in two and-.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An arm flew right by Joker’s face. It landed on the wall to his right. He froze, he didn’t bother to look at how the team was taking it, most definitely worse. He turned to his left, towards the center of the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An angel, two massive wings of red attached to an armored angel with red skin. It stood three times as big as any of them. It was the thing that was missing an arm. In front of it was an armored person, bigger than the average man. Long blond hair, metal scales that covered a robe. Its gauntleted hands reached at the angel by its wings and <em>tore them off. </em>It tore them off with not even a grunt and flung them over its shoulder, landing in the middle of the pews. They fought on an elevated altar, a statue of Kamoshida in front of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Joker saw the room flicker from the cathedral to the Shujin gym, but that didn’t matter now. He needed to focus, or he could be next.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The one with long hair took a spear from the air. It was massive, as tall as the thing, seven spearheads littered them, all with curved heads. He threw the angel to the ground and stabbed it in the shoulder. It cried out in pain, in many voices it cried for mercy. The one with the spear just laughed. A booming, roaring, terrifying thing. It laughed as it raised the spear above its shoulders and stabbed the angel over and over and over and over and over and over and over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The angel was dead, it had to have been dead. It was a shadow, but it wouldn’t disappear. Just like the bodies from the roof courtyard, it wouldn’t disappear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Joker just stared. He could do nothing. He didn’t want to run. If he ran, the thing might chase him and his friends down and do the same thing to them. He could only watch. He had to watch. He had to watch this brute stab this angel over and over again as black tar and red blood spilled from the altar and down its steps and to the pews and…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Joker stopped breathing. There was a person sitting at the pews, their arms spilled on the top. Lounging, like this was their entertainment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As if Joker’s eyes signaled something. They got up and turned around. He looked at them and walked towards them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Joker could only stand there, his hands shaking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He thought he was strong, that Kamoshida would be made his bitch. That this would be simple.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He could never have been more wrong. This person, this… this <em>thing</em> in front of him… it was paralyzing him with fear by simply laying eyes on it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They stopped right in front of Joker, meeting his eyes. Their brown eyes met his own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They adjusted their cloth robes and leather belt with gauntleted hands. He moved the braid that dangled from the side of his skull from short brown hair. The steel from it reflected the blue tattoo that decorated his face. A flash of blue coalesced with a spear, simpler than the being that was <em>still stabbing the angel and laughing behind him </em>but in their size.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took another step closer. He peered closer at Joker, all that Joker was to this man was a zoo animal to a visitor, a collector to a curator.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An amused child looking at a funny bug.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That’s all that this was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cuchulain.” They said. Their voice was deep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The monster on the other side finally stopped stabbing the angel and disappeared in the same blue fire as it disappeared. Joker could see the angel from past the man. It couldn’t be called an angel anymore. He couldn’t think of a word to describe it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was a… mess.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Joker’s eyes flickered from the man in front to the paste that the angel had become. He noticed this and looked behind him, peering at the damage and turning back to Joker, his face like stone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then he smiled.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yikes.</p>
<p>this chapter was all akira pov, so ryuu will be next and boy is it not a happy one.</p>
<p>a couple of personas names are getting changed bc i want to, and ryuji is the start. drake is based on Francis drake, a pirate and best known as the first sailor to sail around the world in a single voyage. as much as i love William kidd, drake is a better name to yell in a fight than that, and it's just bc i want to. the personas that I'm changing are the ones that either don't make any sense or that i think are better ones. this is the only exception as i like captain kidd, but i think his tree will run better as his personas evolve this way.</p>
<p>i am changing up the order of somethings and hiding some other things for now bc i want the beginning of this story to be slightly different than the same copy and paste of the dialogue from the game. i also want to bounce from this arc as soon as possible, as the less times i have to type kamoshidas name the more sane i will be. so expect this arc to breeze by.</p>
<p>thanks for reading yall, I'm off to work</p>
<p>peaceeee</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>